SOLO FLIGHT

“You’re on you own” was all he said

that day long years ago;

So long his name and face are lost

in memory’s afterglow.

Nor do I recollect of pride or joy

or doubt or fright;

Or other circumstance which marked

that time for solo flight.

The cryptic words alone endure.

He said, “You’re on your own;”

And down through time I’ve found it so,

the test’s to walk alone.

Not that one choose to draw aside

in churlish mein or vein;

From common lot of what life holds of

pleasure, toll or pain.

But that the call’s to rise and cruise

alone with dreams unshared;

Or plan alone for some far goal for

which none else has cared.

Or fight alone for what you hold is

worth a warrior’s strife;

And ask no gain or fame or aught

beyond the joy of life.

I owe a quenchless debt to him

who made me bade my fate;

And hang it on the faith that I

to it was adequate.

For when he said, “You’re on your own”

and sauntered on away;

I knew that here in four short words

was youth’s first judgment day.

Not wit to learn, not test of skill,

not pride to satisfy;

But will to walk down life in faith

that life is theirs who try.

– Gill Robb Wilson (1959)